“Excuse me, you’re so gorgeous”
“Thank you,” I said briskly. My feet were sore from the heels I was wearing, the groceries in my hands were heavy, and I had many more blocks to walk. As I wondered how many other women he hit on that day, his face appeared again,
“I’m sorry, I didn’t get a chance to properly compliment you. You’re so beautiful. My name is…”
He continued to ask about my background, chat about his business, and mentioned he was on his way to Equinox,
“Have you ever been inside an Equinox? Would you like to see one? I’ll bring you as my guest.”
One handle of my WholeFoods bag had ripped and the other was about to as well.
“The handles are going to–“ I started.
“No they’re not. I was too busy admiring your beauty that I didn’t notice you were carrying something heavy.” He swooped up the bags in his arms. The flattery made the insides of my mind flash red with warning flags. Not to mention he was twice my age. On the way to Equinox he dropped more names than I had ever heard anyone mention in one conversation.
“Is anyone making you smile? SERIOUSLY making you smile?” He asked.
Of course not. This was New York. You could see my resting bitch face an avenue away.
The gym looked like the lobby of a luxury hotel. A soft fire flickered in the center of the room. Some people sat with their laptops at a mahogany table while others bobbed up and down on silent ellipticals. Everyone wore the same Lululemon’s and placid expressions.
“She’s interested in a membership,” the new stranger told a fitness instructor with impeccable hair that seemed frozen in place. I was led through locker rooms fully stocked with Kiehl’s skincare products, yoga studios with 360 views of the city at sunset, rooftop saunas, and acai bowl cafes.
“I love that for you,” said the staff member as I chatted with him about Bikram yoga, “It’s just that I don’t do heat.”
At the end of our tour, the man with plastic hair approached us with a laptop,
“So, what do you think? Our initiation fee is $500 and the monthly cost is $400.”
“It’s beautiful,” I began. Just as I was about to give my speech on being poor, the stranger stepped in,
“She’s going to do some marketing for me. Our company is going to pay for her membership, and she’s going to use my guest pass.”
“Perfect, when would you like her to start?”
“Next Friday.”
I was in their system.
“Are you going to stay and workout then?” I asked.
“No I’m actually headed somewhere else.”
“You said you were on your way here,” I had to call him out on his contraction.
“Well I was before.”
“Because of me?”
He smiled and walked me to where I was headed. As he talked about the Netflix show he was working on, his business ideas for cereal, and some deal he had with Jay-Z, I had to ask,
“So of all the projects you’ve worked on, which one brings you the most joy?”
He stopped, “You know, no one’s quite asked me that one yet. Probably working with tourists. They’re not there to judge or criticize you, they just want to have a good time.”
He continued his soliloquy about a friend who made her first million at nine-years-old by inventing Croc charms, working with Rihanna, the new office he was buying overlooking Hudson Yards…
“I’m all about building relationships and then seeing how I can leverage them.”
“Doesn’t that feel inauthentic?” For me, the red flags were still waving.
“No. Because it’s not.”
A few blocks later, we found ourselves talking about the afterlife (probably because I bring it up in every conversation) and he insisted there had to be one.
“Why?” I asked.
“I just feel it. The vibrations. I know I’m going to see my loved ones again.”
We talked about publishing books.
"I want to publish a book someday," I said.
"And why aren't you writing it now?"
"I am."
"Good. And why are you not modeling?"
He pulled me away from the street,
“Do you know why women shouldn’t walk next to the street? My mother gave me one reason. She said it was for safety because of cars. My father gave me another reason. Excuse my language but, in his day and age, he said pimps walk on one side and hoes walk next to the street.” I was glad to clear up any confusion about my profession, given that I had just involuntarily taken a thousand dollars from an older man.
“You were about to walk all this way carrying all of this?” He asked, still holding my groceries.
“Just like I told the guy at Equinox, I walk a lot.”
“I do too. If you look at the bottoms of my sneakers, they’re all destroyed. My brother was like, ‘but those are Valentinos!’ He took me to–“
“A SHOE SPA!” I knew the answer.
“Yes! And they replaced the soles and the heel.”
“I need to do that with my Louboutins.”
As we approached my next location, I thanked him for everything and told him I could take my things from here. I pondered his narcissistic traits and knew I was never going to see him again. One of the last things he said was,
“We do what I call ‘Clark Kent’. We spend all our energy masking our true selves. I was taught to water myself down, but I’m Superman.”
Meet Weird Strangers, But Stay Safe Out There,
BrainwaveBlog ❤️